Hands on the White

Dream Weaver

Compositor: J. Marcou

Afraid to lift the pen,
feels so heavy in my hand,
scared to read what it may write.

Words full of truth means,
pages of pain and fear,
your own ink can tell no lies.


No lies 'cause,
blood flows into my veins,
through my hands upon the white,
every song is a letter,
a bleeding word that rhymes.
Through my hands upon the white.


This cannot be true,
my eyes are fooling me,
or is it just my mind that's playing tricks.

Nightmares come alive,
out of this piece that I write,
oh no, all this evil came out of me.


Now it's really late
I'm in the hands of fate,
none else to blame but myself.
I fill black with white,
with truth I cover lies.
All that I hate, comes back at me.